


it's not the waking, it's the rising

by Red_Cheshire



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Adoption, Gen, I finished and posted this after midnight, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mandalorian Culture, Mando'a, Obi-Wan's Traumatic Childhood, Planet Mandalore (Star Wars), Tea, When you want to adopt the stabby space-wizard teenager but so does almost everyone else, Which Satine Doesn't Know Everything About, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26713144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Cheshire/pseuds/Red_Cheshire
Summary: Satine realises that Jedi aren't saints, and that she'd really like for her new best friend Obi-Wan Kenobi to be Mandalorian. She doesn't particularly care which faction his prospective parent belongs to, either.
Relationships: Buir is married and it's not straight
Comments: 47
Kudos: 756
Collections: Anything But Qui-Gon, Punch Qui-Gon and Adopt Obi-Wan, Star Wars, Star Wars Alternate Universes, all my homies hate qui-gon





	it's not the waking, it's the rising

Satine frowned.

When the Jedi had come to Mandalore to protect her from Death Watch assassins before she could take up the mantel of Duchess she’d expected _more_ from the fabled peacekeepers. It may have been her Coruscanti education speaking, rather influenced by Republic fairytales and gossip now that she thought about it, but she’d expected rather differently than she’d gotten.

Obi-Wan was barely more than a year her junior, and was both worldly and inexperienced at the same time in the strangest ways. In many ways his exceedingly broad education surpassed her own, and he had the most incredible stories to tell – how he would describe the Room of a Thousand Fountains made stare at him in awe and almost able to see it in her minds eye, playing pranks on his friends with his star-blessed gift and running away giggling from his teachers, tidbits of the many places he’d already seen or passed through on missions.

Though some of those stories made it feel like her heart was lodged in her throat from the horror of them, the way that Obi-Wan would awkwardly try to avoid the depth of the details as he confided in her. Being kidnapped and sold by his older brother, though he didn’t recognise his relationship to the man as that. Flying a craft _through_ the halls of a larger ship, destroying his love of flying with the terror he had held for his life in the act.

There was only one story that was worse, regardless of how little she actually knew, and she’d barely been able to pull whispers of it from Obi-Wan on the rare occasion he’d let anything slip. An army of children fighting against their own parents, a sister murdered – assassinated by one of her own – for seeking a better, more peaceful future.

Obi-Wan with his wonderful, terrible, stories was far more vibrant than she’d ever expected from a Jedi. Oh, he _tried_ to wear a solemn, serious mask, especially around his guardian – but behind it was a fiery spirit that would have fit right in with any child of Mandalore. If not for the initial clumsiness of Mando’a on his tongue she’d have easily mistaken him for any other teenager she’d run into among the brightly coloured banners and brighter foods of a festival – fighting fiercely and relishing in the challenge.

His master was another matter.

Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn _was_ a skilled diplomat and swordsman, but he used that awful ‘mindtrick’ far more than she felt comfortable with for anyone – let alone a man who interacted _regularly_ with politicians and the vulnerable. He was presumptuous and arrogant, as if he knew better than everyone else, even when he tried to be kind or courteous.

He treated his padawan with such casual cruelty that it made her _Mando’ad_ heart seethe. No parent should treat their child with such cold dismissiveness. Any Mandalorian who treated their child as Jinn did would have swiftly lost custody, by one means or another, and been shunned by both clan and community.

But what made things worse was that Obi-Wan barely seemed to _notice_ his treatment, as if being spoken down to and pushed aside when he expressed his concerns were normal and to be expected. Though, with how Jinn treated his foundling she really shouldn’t be surprised for that to be the case.

For the Jedi to _allow_ Master Jinn to retain custody of any child with such a record of abuse was baffling. It couldn’t be that they weren’t aware, for all that Obi-Wan was reluctant to outwardly acknowledge that his guardian was less than ideal there were still the signs of his treatment in his own manner and Jinn’s own actions themselves were clear.

Were either of the two Mandalorian then _someone_ would have challenge Jinn to a custody duel. Even one of her own New Mandalorians would be hard pressed to take issue with such a means if it removed a _dar’buir_ from their foundling’s life any swifter than issuing of a legal annulment of guardianship on grounds of abuse. But neither of them were Mandalorian.

She paused and held that thought in her mind. Satine rolled it around, taking her time as if it were a hardboiled uj'ayl sweet, and considered the thought and where it lead.

Neither of the Jedi were Mandalorian, but traditionally all that was required of a child to become Mandalorian was to be adopted by one. The adoption didn’t even need to be parental. Obi-Wan was technically old enough that he could swear by the _Resol’nare_ , but her people didn’t, and she knew that he’d never agree to become a convert like that – not with what it would mean.

Satine _could_ adopt Obi-Wan as her brother, which she did enjoy the idea of it and she knew that it would floor her remaining siblings in the _best_ way, but she’d have no way to enforce it. She knew that Jinn wouldn’t respect her authority or Mandalorian tradition enough to abide the claim if he felt he could get away with it, and poor Obi-Wan would let the Jedi drag him back to Coruscant out of his sense of duty.

The _other_ political ramifications, such as the almost certain assassination attempts by Death Watch and the increased scrutiny from the Republic for ‘stealing’ a Jedi Padawan into her royal clan were similarly distasteful. While the Republic never paid reparations for its own crimes it certainly demanded them when it felt slighted – the Annihilation had shown that.

Which meant that she needed to find someone _else_ to adopt Obi-Wan. The weight of a parent and clan’s claim, with Satine’s own explicit approval and support, would be far harder to dismiss or devalue.

~

Satine smiled.

It was a polite smile, courteous as all her training in political etiquette dictated, but there was undeniable glee around the edges. She’d done it. It had taken expanding the options of potential clans to include those who numbered among the _Haat Mando’ade_ and changing her future policies to appeal to the Faithful, but she had sweetened the clans enough that Satine knew the idea would be considered.

She’d have to honour those deals, honour the old traditions despite how it grated on her modern sensibilities, but it would be _worth it_. Obi-Wan deserved to have a proper family, a clan. He deserved to have a better parent than Master Jinn, he deserved to be Mandalorian.

Obi-Wan, who was currently sparring with one of Clan Tenau’s warriors in a mix of Jedi unarmed combat and the _Mando’paru_ he’d begun to be trained in. He wasn’t as skilled with it as he was with his lightsaber, but even Satine could tell he was already improving.

Obi-Wan was still blatantly a Jedi, at least to Satine and anyone else who knew what to look for, for all that he’d disguised his iconic braid by trimming it and weaving more braids into his hair as he grew it out, but the more that was overlooked in favour of that he was a bodyguard and how _mandokar_ _la_ he was the better.

Shifting to face the other Mandalorian, Satine turned her attention to the short-spoken chieftain of Clan Tenau who signalled her own acknowledgement. «What do you think?» Satine asked in Mando’a – she’d been trying to pick up the more traditional Mandalorian dialect. It would hardly do to snub an ally.

«That your friend has taken to our ways well, just as they have been a good influence on you.»

«Obi-Wan reminded me of what is important. That our history and culture is too important for to let the _Dar’narir_ make us forget. Mandalore has been a good influence on them, but there are some things that they are stuck on.»

The _aliit’alor_ recognised the leading comment for that it was, «Such as?»

«That a parent has obligations to their child.»

Recognition and realisation were almost instantaneous, the chieftain of Clan Tenau’s expression was hard and furious, her hand sliding to her blaster in reflex. « _What ha_ _ve_ _the Jedi done_.» It wasn’t a question.

«It’s just Master Jinn, I would think, but the Jedi Order have all failed by allowing it to continue. Jinn has neglected, starved, and emotionally abused Obi-Wan since they claimed them. But Obi-Wan doesn’t understand that there is anything wrong with the way Jinn treats them.»

The chieftain’s growl was audible, even to Satine’s ears. «Are you asking for the Jedi to be executed, little Kyrze?»

«No, I’m asking for you to permit Obi-Wan to be adopted into your clan. Mandalore has been a good influence on them, and becoming Mandalorian would be an even better one.»

She was quiet for a painfully long moment, her hand still lingering on her blaster as she clearly fantasised about shooting Qui-Gon Jinn. «You’re a sneaky little shit, Sat’ika. I’ll call a meeting to sponsor the little warrior, but _you_ are going to explain what you’ve seen to my clan. I want witness statements and you are going to explain _in detail_ why you haven’t adopted them as your sibling already.”

Satine nodded solemnly, smile curling on her face, «Yes, _alor_.”

~

Some days later the meeting had taken place, the adult members of Clan Tenau able to return to the stronghold had been spitting mad and almost ready to gut the Jedi Master for his mistreatment of his _ad_.

Obi-Wan was sixteen going on seventeen, but Mandalorian teenagers were still under their _buire_ aegis even if they had gained their independence – Obi-Wan hadn’t even been thirteen the first time he’d almost died because of Jinn.

It had taken all of her diplomatic training, and reminders of that as an empath Obi-Wan would feel his Master’s death, to talk them down from killing the _dar’buir Jetii_.

Satine understood their reaction, for all that the New Mandalorians would have arrested the man, but the political consequences of killing a Jedi Master after ‘stealing’ their apprentice with a rather public – and in all likelihood non-consensual – adoption would have been a nightmare to deal with.

It had been awkward to hold the meeting without Obi-Wan present as her bodyguard, but they had been able to keep the meeting and resulting outbursts of fury and horrified disgust from him by sending him out hunting with a few of the teenagers. Jinn, the lucky fool, was gathering information in the nearest city and hadn’t been present to be killed by angry Mandalorians.

Towards the end of the meeting Mandalorians had started putting themselves forward, willing to adopt despite or even because he was raised Jedi. That had lead to some vibrant arguments, shouting at top volume, and colourful banter over drinks before it was decided that who got to adopt her friend would be decided by a tournament.

Satine privately felt that settling the matter in such a way was rather uncivilised but everyone involved _was_ willing to take part, and it was better than overwhelming Obi-Wan with sudden offers of adoption from every adult that approached him or the first adult he met after he returned swearing _gai bal manda_ before anyone else had the chance.

So over the next few days the prospective parents beat in each others faces in incredibly fierce, and impressively long, sparring matches. Obi-Wan had noticed that something was going on, but no one would give him a clear answer beyond that there was a bet of some sort going on and that he was welcome to watch. He did and Satine watched with him, when they both weren’t helping with chores or practising their own _Mando’paru_. Seeing a short Human woman choke out a Togorian male with her thighs was _inspiring_.

On the day that a winner of the custody tournament was declared Satine dragged Obi-Wan to their family’s room with one hand and a dish of spicy fish pastries in the other. Zayne, her friend’s future _buir_ , had a bruised eye and split lip that had already been treated and was already waiting for them as he sat at the low table with a boiling pot of _behot_ shig.

«Behold your prize!» Satine crowed in Mando’a with delight as she set down the pastries on the low table and planted herself down, Obi-Wan settling on a cushion beside her.

Zayne chuckled, warm and indulgent, as he poured cups of shig and pushed theirs towards them. Obi-Wan contentedly sipped at his, tea always did soothe him, and Satine placed a pastry into his hand when her friend set down his cup.

«Congratulations on your win?» Obi-Wan offered, looking up from the pastry and clearly unsure of why he was here in the first place. He didn’t know Zayne or his husband very well, for all that the older man had inserted himself as his _Mando’paru_ instructor after they’d arrived at the Tenau stronghold.

«Thank you, I’m pleased to hear that,» he answered with a wry smile. «I know your name as my child, Obi-Wan.»

“What?!”

Obi-Wan’s bewildered expression was honestly hilarious, and Satine couldn’t help but let slip a giggle. His gaze flicked between them, both Mandalorians satisfied as milk-drunk tooka kits, with disbelief clear on his face.

“You didn’t think that over a dozen Mandalorian warriors were sparring over _pastries_ , did you?” she replied in Basic, feeling the same joy she’d been nursing since the chieftain had agreed to let her sponsor her friend’s adoption.

“Really, Satine?”

Her friend’s new _buir_ held up a hand to cut off any reply Satine may have had and gestured to the spread before them. «Yes, Ob’ika, really. We’ve food and drink to enjoy while the Speaker and I explain.»

~

When Qui-Gon Jinn returned to the Tenau stronghold with news that someone had been assassinating the leaders of _Kyr’tsad_ he was met with many armed, armoured, and angry Mandalorians, a coldly furious chieftain, and a grinning Satine Kryze. Obi-Wan was standing among the main group, calmer than he had been in some time, and dressed with the clan sigil of Clan Tenau.

The information he brought was fairly welcome, but he was not. After a tense stand-off and a _very_ colourful argument where Obi-Wan’s _buire_ explained the _many_ ways that Jinn had failed as a parent, punctuated with pointed blasters and the offer of a duel if he felt the need to challenge for custody, the Jedi did – and was skewered with a vibro-pike.

Jinn did not return.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Satine _is_ becoming less of an auto-genocidal heretic. Or rather, her desperation to see her friend adopted by a loving clan means that she never gets that bad in the first place.
> 
> Mando'a:  
> Mando'ad - Mandalorian  
> Dar'buir - ex-parent, parent disowned by child  
> Resol'nare - Six Actions, the tenets of traditional Mandalorian culture  
> Haat Mando’ade - True Mandalorians, moderate political faction devoted to tradition without engaging in galactic conquest  
> Mando’paru - Mandalorian martial arts, term invented by the fanfic writer 'Pallorsomnium'  
> Mandokarla - having the *right stuff*, showing guts and spirit, the state of being the epitome of Mando virtue  
> Dar’narir - made-up term roughly meaning '*those who* don't take action', a politer term for the heretical New Mandalorians than the accusatory Dar'manda. A reference of pacifism and not following the Resol'nare  
> Aliit’alor - clan leader  
> Alor - leader, sir, boss  
> Buire - parents (singular, buir)  
> Jetii - Jedi  
> Gai bal manda - adoption ceremony, lit. name and soul  
> Kyr’tsad - Death Watch, warmongering traditionalist faction
> 
> 'ika - affectionate diminutive


End file.
